


Wouldn't You Love to Love Her

by hnathe (vesuviusPrivateer)



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, FatT Femslash Week, Friends at the Table Femslash Week 2018, wlw author
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-14 15:38:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15391974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesuviusPrivateer/pseuds/hnathe
Summary: Prompt fills for Friends at the Table Femslash Week 2018!7/22 - Spring : Hella Varal / Adaire Ducarte7/23 - Love Letters: Aria Joie / Jacqui Green7/24 - Dance/Disguise: Charter Castille / Rebecca (Lance Noble Orchid)





	1. Day One: Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day One - Spring: Hella Varal / Adaire Ducarte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you get so excited about ladies in love you forget the very important status of said characters at the end of winter. So. Sorry Swordtown.

Hella Varal had never before had the compulsion to pick a flower blooming in her path. No bright and delicate petals had ever been so striking as to pause her stalwart march. But several months of harsh and bitter winter could alter one's priorities, and when Hella spied six faint blue petals growing against a backdrop of icy white, her attention was caught despite herself.

  
A handful of buds had sprouted around the brave blossom, but they remained cautiously closed against the slowly, so slowly warming air. This flower had perhaps been over-eager, greeting the coming spring while winter still had a jealous grip on the continent, and would probably be punished by a morning frost, its life cut short before true spring had arrived.

  
Or maybe that was a convenient excuse for Hella to cut its life short pre-emptively by plucking it from the ground. Or maybe not. Hella didn't need an excuse to kill people, much less flowers.

  
All the excuse she really needed was that it matched the fabric of a blue dress, made up with embroidery and beads but as simple as the flower itself beneath the pretense.

  
The owner of that dress never could think of things so simply.

  
A deceptively soft hand caught Hella's wrist as she attempted to tuck the bloom between the threads of Adaire's cap, but the owner of said hand did not look up from her map-in-progress.

  
"What are you doing?" Asked a voice steeled by many a mischievous younger sibling's pranks--or perhaps many a rival's hidden blades. Hella tugged her hand from Adaire's grip easily, and frowned.

  
"Just trying to surprise you," She said, fighting the impulse to petulantly cross her arms, "it's a gift, not a knife."

  
Adaire turned to her with cautious, narrowed eyes as Hella tucked both hands behind her back and out of sight. "A gift." She repeated. "Why?"

  
"I can't just give you something without an ulteri- right." Hella shook her head, "forgot who I was talking to. Look, do you want a gift or not?"

  
Adaire's mouth twisted in consideration. "I want to know what it is."

  
"A surprise."

  
Her twisted lips settled into a frown. "I hate surprises."

  
Hella sighed. "Just- close your eyes. You'll like this surprise, trust me."

  
Hella regretted the word as soon as it left her mouth, and her body tensed as she waited for Adaire's laughter at the thought of trusting anyone, much less Hella, even for such a tiny thing. So she was ill-prepared when Adaire instead rolled her eyes once, then closed them. Hella stared a moment before Adaire cleared her throat.

  
"I'm waiting."

  
"Sorry. Hold still."

  
With more gentle care than Hella could remember ever using her hands before, she cupped the side of Adaire's head--and she did notice the way Adaire stifled a gasp at the contact, though she chose not to address it--and threaded the stem of the azure blossom through the threads of Adaire's cap and a few strands of her dark hair, carefully positioning it so its face was turned up to the sky.

  
Her hand lingered a moment, then slid away, fingers brushing Adaire's cheek in their wake. And once more, Hella knew better than to call attention to the action when Adaire's head followed the motion.

  
"There," she said, voice softer than intended.

  
Adaire's eyes fluttered slowly open, and she reached up to touch the new addition to her hair, skilled fingers alighting softly on delicate petals.

  
"What is this?"

  
"Just a flower. Saw it blooming a little ways off from camp." Hella said, with a shrug of her armored shoulders. "Made me think of you."

  
And maybe affection danced with the hesitant suspicion in Adaire's eyes at that. And maybe Hella spotted her touching the flower when she thought no one was looking as the day went on. And maybe she caught glimpses of it pressed carefully in Adaire's notebook in the following days.

  
She knew better than to call attention to it. Adaire was a smart woman; She'd figure things out.


	2. Day Two: Love Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Two - Love Letters: Aria Joie/Jacqui Green

Let no one say Aria Joie didn't care about her fans.

  
Although new fanletters went through the People's Correspondence Center for Equal Communication By Earthhome and were run through a keyword match in the customer satisfaction database and never reached the eyes of the star they were addressed to, Aria had loaded as many of her old fan letters to her bangle as she could on her way out. She may have hated the company that brought her into the spotlight, but she still loved the people who had cheered her on along the way. Every now and then it was nice, when she had just gotten through a stressful mission, to look through her old letters and remember her days on the stage.

  
Or, in this case, it was nice to look through them while she was recovering from a cold. Hey, if she was stuck in bed looking puffy and snotty and gross it couldn't hurt to read a few pages of people telling her how gorgeous she was.

  
Even if her loving girlfriend was rolling her eyes as she read them out loud.

  
"Put that down and eat this soup before it gets cold."

  
"I can do booooth." Aria said, accepting a slightly steamy bowl of soup and settling it on her lap. The smell of chicken broth wafted up to her stuffy nose and she grinned.  
"Awwww, you picked up the matzo ball soup from that place I told you about?"

  
Jacqui bristled, crossing her arms but unable to keep her lips from twitching. "I could've made that. You don't know, you've been in here boosting your ego."

  
"My ego needs TLC too!" Aria laughed, flipping to the next message. "Dear Aria, I've been a big--sluuuurp--big fan since your first album. I played your song, Meteorite--shlurp--Heart for my crush and told her it reminded me of---Sluurp--her and-"

  
"Alright, alright," Jacqui said, voice stern but shoulders shaking, "Pick one, slurping or reading. I can't listen to this."

  
Aria pouted. "I'm sick you can't tell me what to do."

  
"Is that how that works?"

  
"That's how it works!"

  
"Alright, your majesty," Jacqui acquiesced with a fond eyeroll and leaned back in her chair, planting her fuzzy-socked feet on the bed. "Just be careful you don't choke on your soup, huh?"

  
Aria rolled her eyes right back and gave Jacqui's foot a gentle shove before continuing on.

  
"Told her it reminded me of her and she asked me if I liked her! I was so scared but I listened to my inner Aria- oh my god that's so cute." Aria pressed a hand to her chest and Jacqui chuckled, "and told her that I did, and she asked me out! Thank you so much, Aria! Your biggest fan, Evergreen Warren. Hear that babe, my biggest fan!"

  
Jacqui scoffed. "Bigger than me?"

  
Aria shrugged and grinned. "Maybe. Who knows, they could be eight feet tall."

  
"Maybe they're a divine," Jacqui shot back, grin wide.

  
Aria flipped to the next letter, which had been carefully hand-written in what looked like green crayon and scanned. Aria squinted as she read the shaky print.

  
"Dear Area Joy, I like your music tha- the best. I saw your concert at Garden Live Livestream from Earthome, Registered Trademark-"

  
"What?" Jacqui planted her arm on the mattress to lean over and look at the screen herself.

  
"That's what it says, look, they wrote in the symbol and everything. Right there in blue."

  
Jacqui looked at the letter a little longer and sat back, "Huh. That's . . . Kind of cute?"

  
"Kind of," Aria agreed, before continuing, "It was really good. I like when you . . . San?"

  
"Sang, probably."

  
"Oh, yeah. I like when you sang, that's my way hey hey hey--Oh, oof, that's an oldie--It was good. Please make a new album son- soon, and come to Garden on tour, sin- sincerely? Begin Hathaway, Begin Hathaway."

  
Jacqui didn't ask, but Aria turned to explain anyway. "They signed it and printed it."

  
"Cute," Jacqui said, and sounded more sure of it this time. "Don't let your soup get cold."

  
Aria pointedly scooped half of a matzo ball into her mouth before flipping to the next letter.

  
"Dear Aria Joie, your music means so much to me. I've been going through a really tough time lately, but when I listen to you, it's like the bad stuff isn't happening. You make things easier, even if nothing else changes." Aria paused, "Aw, that's just--Babe, doesn't that just get you right here?" She asked, gesturing at her chest.

  
Jacqui's brow was furrowed in concentration, and she didn't respond immediately. "Huh? Um. Yeah, yeah, sure does."

  
Aria took another sip of soup and went on.

  
"Watching you on stage is amazing. When you smile at the crowd it feels like you're smiling right at me, even though I know you can't see me. I had to miss your last concert on Kalliope for work, but I bought the recording as soon as it went live."

  
"Heeey, babe?" Jacqui said, voice strained and a little higher than usual, "You look tired. Maybe you should take a break. Or a nap."

  
Aria eyed her, taking in her tapping foot and hands gripping the arms of her chair. She smiled.

  
"Aw, honey, you worry too much. Besides I still have some soup left!" She turned back to the display, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Jacqui running a hand through her hair, green roots just starting to peek out.

  
"Anyway, I know you get lots of letters like this all the time, and maybe you won't even read this, but I wanted you to know how much you and your music mean to me. You're always gonna be my number one star-"

  
"You know staring at this screen probably isn't helping-"

  
"Signed, your biggest fan-"

  
"Hey-"

  
Aria set her spoon down in her now empty bowl with a clink, and turned watery eyes on her girlfriend, who had scrunched up as much as all seven feet of her could in the armchair and was carefully avoiding her gaze.

  
"Baaaaaaaaaaabe! You sent me a fan letter?"

  
"Maybe," Jacqui mumbled.

  
Aria set her bowl down on the endtable in a hurry and threw off her covers, attempting to climb out of bed on wobbly legs.

  
"Hey, hey!" Jacqui jumped out of her chair and made to bundle Aria back into bed, despite the latter's complaints. "You're still running a fever, get back in there and rest."

  
"I wanted to hug you!" Aria whined. "That's the sweetest letter I've ever read!"

  
"No it's not, you're just saying that 'cause you love me," Jacqui said, pulling the blankets up to Aria's chest. Aria pouted and crossed her arms, and Jacqui pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "And you're loopy from the fever."

  
"I'm not loopy," Aria said, "And my fever isn't even that high now. In fact, I don't think I'm even contagious anymore."

  
Jacqui regarded Aria with a cool stare. "I'm not cuddling with you 'til you're better, snotface."

  
"You're the worst biggest fan ever."

  
Jacqui snorted as she gathered up the dirty dishes, and turned a grin so wide on Aria that she had trouble breathing. Or maybe that was the cold.

  
"But you admit I'm your biggest fan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again Ellie for helping me with the fan letters!


	3. Day Three: Dance / Disguise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Three - Dance / Disguise: Charter Castille / Rebecca

The pointer finger of Rebecca's off-color hand ran around the rim of her champagne flute, but try as she might, it would not produce a note. Tiny bubbles of fizz rose to tingle at the digit, and Rebecca wondered if the everlasting sparkle of the drink was an invention of the Lord or His Artificer Mundane. The level of the champagne hadn't depleted, but that wasn't the work of any God. Rebecca's stomach was too twisted and uneasy for her to even think of touching the sparkling drinks or decadent spread provided for Samothes' guests. All she could think about were her colleages--her friends--who were not seated at the table with her, enjoying their meal and making merry. This did not seem to be an issue for her senior Noble, as Iris was well on his third flute of bubbly.

The jaunty sound of clarinets filled the room with warm and bouncy tones, calling dancers from their seats, but wherever Rebecca looked there were no instruments to be found. Her foot tapped despite herself, a quiet percussion line click-click-clicking along with the rhythm as the heel of her boot met the glass beneath, joined after a moment by an arrhythmic click-clacking crescendoing towards her table. Rebecca raised her head from the pale amber bubbles of her drink to the warmer, much more vivid yellow-orange fabric of a fine gown, worn by a pale elven woman who hadn't yet taken notice of Rebecca, and was instead very carefully searching the room with sharp eyes under a tense brow. Something in the lines of her face, the way she carried herself, called back to Rebecca's memories, but she couldn't quite place her. As far as she could recall, she thought she had seen this woman earlier, working her way through the crowd with Maelgwyn.

Rebecca's eyes narrowed, and a high pitched squeal came from her champagne flute as she pressed her finger down harder. The elven woman flinched at the sound, and turned those sharp eyes on Rebecca. They went wide first, then darted left and right and finally as her tense shoulders drooped, softened.

"Some party, huh?" She said in a voice that Rebecca's ears told her that she had heard before, that didn't sound quite right coming out of this woman's mouth, but still Rebecca couldn't make any connection. Rebecca looked to Iris, who appeared to be taking a break from his drink to watch the dancers, but did not offer up any small talk himself. Finally, she shrugged.

"I suppose it is. You look like you're looking for someone." She leaned across the table on her elbow, "You know, I saw you with that Maelgwyn guy earlier. How do you know him? You a friend of his? Friend of The Six?"

The woman opened her mouth, then closed it. She tilted her head and squinted at Rebecca, then her eyes went wide once more, and she raised a hand to her lips to laugh at an odd pitch behind it.

"Oh, uhhh," she cleared her throat, "I mean, I'm friends with Maelgwyn, yes, but um--Can't say I'm familiar with, ah, what did you say? The Six?" She held out a gloved hand, smiling warmly. "My name is Charter, I'm with the mages. And you are?"

Rebecca considered Charter for a moment before extending her own hand.

"Lance Noble Orchid," she said, and Charter squeezed her hand firmly, sending a wave of goosebumps up her arm, "You can- You can call me Rebecca."

"Rebecca." Charter repeated, as she slowly retracted her hand, fingers brushing Rebecca's palm. Rebecca absently wondered what divine means regulated the temperature inside the volcano, and if perhaps they needed maintenance. "Would you. . ." Charter bit her lip. Rebecca's eyes snapped to the action, held there a moment, then shifted back up to smiling eyes that had absolutely seen that. "Would you like to dance? With me?"

Rebecca hesitated, the drumming of her heel reaching an accelerando that outpaced the music of the ballroom. Technically, she was here as a guest and not in official capacity as law-enforcement or security. Samothes of course had security measures of his own; she could see several Pala-Din on the fringes of the ballroom, so there was no reason she couldn't relax and enjoy a dance, but-

"Please?" Charter tilted her pretty head, clasping her hands together plaintively, but her eyes never lost their gleam. "I would hate for this beautiful music to go to waste."

Rebecca's chair squeaked as she pushed it back, and Charter's smile softened as she accepted Rebecca's outstretched hand. "Didn't expect you to lead," she said, voice light and warm.

Rebecca shrugged, hand pressing lightly to Charter's side. "That's how I learned."

Charter gave Rebecca's shoulder a squeeze. "Well then, lead away."

Rebecca's chest felt fluttery and warm as Charter drew closer to her with every spin, gifting her a smile with each squeeze of her hand, but she did not miss how Charter would scan the room every time she was twisted out of Rebecca's arms. She certainly didn't miss when her distracted dance partner trod on her feet, even if the reverberations of her laughter thrumming through their close-pressed forms were so, so easy to get lost in. The growing warmth in Rebecca's chest went suddenly chilly when Charter's eyes widened at the sight of something over Rebecca's shoulder, and her smile turned sad when she turned that gaze to Rebecca again.

"Sorry to cut the dance short, but I really should be going," she said, hand sliding almost regretfully from Rebecca's shoulder as she moved to pass by her. Rebecca tightened her jaw and caught her more firmly around the waist.

"I know who you're looking for and- and you shouldn't hang out around that guy."

Charter raised a dark eyebrow. "That guy?"

"Maelgwyn," Rebecca whispered, almost hissed. "He's bad news. He and his friends- they're dangerous criminals and- and you shouldn't associate with people like that, you- you could get hurt."

Charter frowned, and opened her mouth, perhaps preparing a defense of her companion, then closed her eyes and sighed. Her eyes were once again sharp as a blade when she opened them again and raised a hand to Rebecca's cheek, rubbing her thumb along a wide scar. Charter smiled.

"You're so sweet," she said, and leaned in to press a light kiss just at the corner of Rebecca's mouth. "But it's too late for me to back out now."

By the time Rebecca shook herself out of her haze to ask what exactly Charter couldn't back out of, there was not even a trail of bright saffron left to chase after.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for your interest in this event! Things have been a bit busy for me but I'm going to try my best to participate with everyone else!


End file.
